


Temps Up, Tim Down

by redrobinfection (ChristmasRivers)



Series: JayTim Week 2017 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (embarassing medical procedures), Established Relationship, Heatwave, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Injury, JayTim Week, M/M, Medical Procedures, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristmasRivers/pseuds/redrobinfection
Summary: A vicious heatwave is hovering over Gotham, and her vigilante protectors are doing their best to juggle keeping themselves cool with keeping Gotham safe, but with the way Tim forgets to keep himself hydrated and take a break every now and then, it’s only a matter of time before Tim breaks down.





	Temps Up, Tim Down

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the first day of the tumblr JayTim Week 2017 - Heatwave | ~~Carnival~~
> 
> (This is a sequel to my Day 1 entry ["A Sweet Treat"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11620797/chapters/26128695), but can also stand alone)
> 
> (Edit 2018-07-01: freshly edited for 2018 :3)

Days passed, but the heatwave smothering Gotham didn’t. Two weeks in and Jason was beginning to consider cutting back his patrol hours - if not for the heat, then because of the way crime rates had plummeted following the extreme rise in temperatures.

Normally when the temps rose, so did tempers and daring, resulting in above average rates of violent and destructive crimes, but not this time. With daytime temps rising into the low 100s and nighttime temps barely dropping below 90 F, Jason could understand why most sane - and even most insane - people would choose to keep quiet and lie as still as possible. Anything to keep from sweating any more than was absolutely necessary.

You better believe Jason knew _all_ about the sweating. He’d started leaving his leather jacket at home, and a few days back he had swapped more breathable materials in for some of the less vulnerable places on his vest. That helped, but only so much. To play it safe, he had gotten into the habit of stopping into bars and diners along his route to snag a glass of water every now and then. That also gave him the chance to reassure the citizens of Gotham that, if anything, at least the heat was keeping things quiet for them.

At the moment he was headed for a rendezvous point he and Red Robin had settled on back at the start of the wave, eagerly anticipating the break they would take together up on the tallest building in Gotham - Wayne Tower. Over the past couple of days they had alternated bringing different sorts of cold drinks and refreshing snacks to their meet up and tonight it was Jason’s turn.

After the last time he’d tried bringing ice-cream - and ended up with a sad, sweet puddle before either of them could take a lick - Jason had gotten the idea to freeze sports drinks at one of his safehouses and grab them on the way over. Tonight it was so hot that, by the time he got to the roof, the drinks were still cold, more or less, but he couldn’t say the small core of ice at their center was enough to call them “frozen treats”. Oh well, it would get the job done.

Jason strode across the roof, scanning for Red. He pulled off his helmet and tried to appreciate the warm breeze up at that height for what it was worth. He didn’t see Red and that surprised him; Tim usually beat him to the roof with minutes to spare, often teasing Hood for keeping him waiting. Well, now Jason could tease him instead.

He settled down on an AC unit to wait, cracking open one bottle after a few minutes. Hopefully Tim would show up before his drink warmed, but in the meantime Jason _had_ to do something to cool off and rehydrate before he keeled over from exhaustion.

He went through half of the bottle before he heard a noise from the other end of the roof. At last, Red Robin crested the edge. He rose with a smile and a quip, but something about the way Red moved toward him gave him pause. He frowned.

Tim was moving slower than usual, almost staggering across the roof, Jason observed. He crossed the distance, meeting the younger man halfway, and peered down into the blank lenses of Red Robin’s cowl. Tim was panting, which wasn’t all that surprising considering that he’d just scaled a ninety-story building, but he also made no moves to drop his cowl or speak. Instead he just stood there, staring at Jason’s chest and weaving slightly on his feet. Jason raised a hand and rapped gently against the side of Red's cowl, asking, “Hey, anyone in there there? Or has the heat fried your brain?”

He startled at the taps and reached up with an unsteady hand to yank down the cowl. Tim’s face was blotchy - patches of angry red mixed with swaths of startlingly pale skin - and it took a few tries before his eyes finally focused on Jason’s face. Jason felt a small curl of worry rise up in his gut.

“Hey, Babybird. You okay? You look like you could seriously use a break right now. I brought us some cold drinks, if you’re interested.”

Tim blinked at him then nodded and stumbled forward toward their favorite place to sit. Jason followed, noting how unsteady he seemed. He was lucky he hadn't fallen off the building halfway up if he was as fatigued as he seemed.

Jason made a silent note to remind Tim that he could always call and ask to meet at one of their places instead, where they could strip down, cool off, and rest if they needed to. With the way Tim liked to overwork himself, though, he was willing to bet his offer would go unused no matter how he pitched it.

Tim didn’t make it far enough to sit on their favorite AC unit, instead opting to collapse to his knees beside it and slump over against the dull metal as if he couldn’t summon the energy to stay upright anymore. He reached with a trembling hand for the unopened bottle and dragged it over, but didn’t uncap it. The little curl of worry in Jason's gut turned into a bad feeling. He dropped down in front of Tim and peered into his face questioningly.

“Hey. Birdbrain. You gonna drink that or just stare at it?”

Tim didn’t reply to the good-natured goading, but he moved, hand slowly snapping the security ring, removing the cap and bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small sip. His eyes were distant and unfocused. Jason leaned in further to try to catch his gaze.

“Hey, Timbo, you look pretty wiped. How about we open up your suit a little bit to let in some air?”

Still no verbal reply, but his eyes drifted towards Jason’s face and Jason took that as a sign of agreement until Tim spoke up to tell him otherwise. He deftly disabled the traps and locks around the collar and unzipped the suit down to the middle of Tim’s chest, hissing as his knuckles brushed against Tim’s mottled skin; it felt clammy and damp in places and dry and hot in others. A terrible pang shot through Jason as he realized what was happening to the younger man.

“Tim? You with me, Babybird? When was the last time you took a break or drank some water, huh?”

No answer. Tim’s eyes drifted again and his hand trembled around the bottle.

“Tim? Hey, Tim? RED ROBIN!”

Tim jerked at the shout and his eyes finally found Jason’s. He brought the bottle up for another shaky sip. “H-hey,” he breathed, “Sorry. I’m just. A little tired, is all.”

Jason grimaced. “‘A little tired’ my ass, man, you look like you’re about to drop dead,” he muttered as he fussed with Tim’s suit, pulling the zipper down a little further to widen the opening and expose him to as much of the meager airflow around them as possible. “Seriously, man, when was the last time you took a break and drank something?”

Tim shrugged one shoulder, taking another, larger sip. “I dunno. Got busy. Awhile. Probably.”

Jason shook his head. “Babybird… you’re gonna kill yourself in this heat, you gotta be more carefu- TIM!”

He jumped back in shock as Tim suddenly bent double then vomited into the spot Jason had just vacated. He didn’t stop after the first spasm, continuing to cough and retch until the small amount of sports drink he’d consumed and a fair amount of saliva and bile pooled on the roof in front of him. He didn’t come back up afterwards, his head staying down as he panted harder than ever and trembled like a leaf in a gale. Jason hopped to his feet and approached from the side, kneeling to grasp Tim’s shoulder and sit him up carefully.

“Hey, man, stay with me, okay? Tim? Timmy? I need you to look at me,” Jason commanded, struggling not to let his voice tremble as adrenaline shot through him. Tim’s eyes rose, but the look there was fuzzier than ever and they didn’t focus on Jason. Jason’s gloves were off in a heartbeat and two fingers were flying up to Tim’s throat while the other hand gripped the back of his neck to steady him.

His pulse was fast, crazy fast - _too fast_ \- and thready under Jason’s fingers. It was heat exhaustion at best, the beginnings of heat stroke at worst, Jason realized as he connected the dots in his head. He shook off his shock; he couldn’t waste any time, he needed to get Tim off that roof and somewhere cool _now_ before things got any worse.

His first thought was to go to his nearest safehouse or to one of Tim’s, but even their closest ones weren't close enough. Moreover, he would probably need help once they got there, if what he suspected was true - he’d made a joke about the heat frying Tim’s brain earlier, but if he wasn’t quick enough to cool him down and stabilize him, they were risking permanent damage to more that and more. His thoughts circled frantically until it finally hit him where he was, which building he was standing on. With shaking hands he opened a line to Babs and made the call.

“Bar-Oracle do you read?”

_“I hear you, Hood. What’s up?”_

“Is anyone in the penthouse or the bunker at Wayne Tower right now?”

_“Umm, why do you need to-”_

“It’s Ti-Red. He’s critically ill and I need help ASAP. We’re on the roof. Is anyone down there right now?”

 _“Critically-? Shit. It’s heat stroke, isn’t it? I told him to take it easy.”_ Jason heard vigorous clicking as Babs brought up the security feeds for the secret places of WE. _“Yeah, you’re in luck. Robin and B are out right now, but N stopped in to take a break at the bunker. I’ll give him a call to let him know you’re coming and I’ll start rerouting stairway security footage and unlocking doors to clear you a path.”_

“Thank you, Babs, you’re the best,” Jason breathed, forgetting code names entirely in his relief. “You were always my favorite Batgirl, the best Batgirl,” he rambled as he wrapped an arm under Tim’s shoulders and hauled him to his feet.

He heard a snort over the line. _“Pfft. I was the only Batgirl you knew and I better have been the best; I_ made _that role.”_

He laughed breathlessly in return, juggling Tim’s mostly slack weight awkwardly. “Well you’re still the best to me.”

 _“Roger that,”_ Babs replied. _“Okay, I’m gonna jump over to talk to N. Back in a bit.”_

The line went silent and Jason turned his focus to slowly walking Tim across the roof to the access door Babs would soon unlock for them. Tim’s legs wobbled worse than a newborn fawn’s, but the moment Jason stopped to get a firmer grip around him was the exact moment he suddenly went completely limp, dropping like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He slipped out of Jason’s grip and slumped towards the ground. Jason only just managed to snag a grip on one arm and yank him up before Tim could crack his head open on the hard surface of the roof.

“Tim! Red! Talk to me!”

No response. Jason wasted no time in hauling the smaller man up into his arms. Tim’s head flopped limply against his chest, and Jason noted with a surge of alarm that the deathly pale splotches on his face and chest were steadily giving way to the angry red patches. Jason jogged to the door, thanking Babs and God and every manner of fate and luck when the door clicked open at the exact moment he tugged at it.

It was already remarkably cooler in the stairway, but he didn’t slow down. He flew down the stairs as fast as he dared, skidding to a stop beside the nondescript, handleless door that led to the penthouse. The door gave with a click as he shoved his weight into it, and Jason fought off his own wave of dizziness as the cool, dry air came as a shock against his overheated skin. He made a beeline for the hidden elevator and jammed what he hoped was still the correct sequence of numbers and letters into the discreet keypad on the wall to call the elevator. As the wall pulled back and the doors to the elevator opened, the comm went active in his ear again.

 _“Hood, you read me?”_ Jason grunted in the affirmative, pounding the button to descend viciously with his elbow. _“N is waiting for you in the bunker’s med bay and we’ve called Agent A, but it might be awhile before he makes it out to you guys. Any changes to T’s condition I should let them be aware of?”_

“Yeah. He lost consciousness before we left the roof, and it’s looking bad right now, Oracle. Any help we can get from A would be appreciated,” Jason responded tersely. Babs made a sound of confirmation and a rapid set of clicks followed. “And Babs?” He heard her pause and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Thanks.”

_“You’re welcome, Jason. Now go get our little bird all fixed up. Oracle out.”_

The elevator slowed, the doors opened, and surprisingly - thankfully - they _weren’t_ suddenly overrun by a tidal wave of Nightwing.

“In here, Jaybird!” Dick’s voice called from the med bay, and Jason wasted no time hurrying toward the sound. In the med bay the lights were up and tubs of ice and water and various rags were lined up neatly on rolling stands beside the aluminum-topped exam table in the middle of the room. Dick was laying down a thin protective sheet to cover the hard surface as they walked in. He looked up at them with a concerned frown.

“How is he? Oracle didn’t tell me much; just a suspected heat illness and a warning not to overwhelm you guys with physical displays of concern or affection.”

Tim stirred in Jason’s arms and murmured deliriously at the sound of Dick’s voice while Jason silently thanked Babs in his head.

“Yeah, he came up for our nightly meetup on the roof a few minutes ago panting and flushed and clearly out of it.” Jason laid him out gently on the cool, hard surface and quickly went to work tugging the suit off. Dick jumped in with a pair of scissors to help. Together they made short work of stripping Tim down to his nothing but his jock. “He got down a few sips of the sports drinks I'd brought, but he threw that up pretty quickly after that. And right after I made the call to Babs, he fainted on me.”

Dick cursed. “Okay then. In that case, we’re probably dealing with full-blown heat stroke.” He moved off to the side, pulled out a saline bag and tubing, and pushed them and an IV stand over towards Jason as he rifled through the other drawers distractedly. “Go ahead and start him up on cooled fluids while I track down a thermometer. Good grief, Tim, what were you thinking.”

“He wasn’t,” Jason groused as he swiped an iodine wipe over Tim’s forearm, prepping for the puncture. He primed the line and then, a few moments later, he slid the needle and catheter in, inserted the line, and secured it all with several strips of tape and gauze, using extra just to be safe in case Tim started thrashing later on.

“Okay, Timmy, I’m sorry about this, but we gotta know what your core temp is right now, buddy,” Dick apologized as he and Jason rolled Tim onto his side, bent his legs up towards his chest, and raised his upper buttock. Dick slicked the end of the glass thermometer with lubricant and slid it into him without hesitation. Tim stirred at the intrusion and murmured his displeasure but Jason ran a hand gently through his matted hair to soothe him.

Dick had Jason take control over the thermometer soon after, using the two minutes wait on the reading to pull out other vital monitoring equipment. He clipped pulse oximeter onto Tim's middle finger and set aside a cuff to measure his blood pressure as soon as they rolled him back again. He slipped a pad under Tim’s head to protect it from the hard surface, then returned his attention to the thermometer.

The look of relief that came over Dick’s face as he analyzed the results seemed like a good sign, but Jason asked anyway. “What’s the damage?”

“Not bad,” Dick replied, setting the instrument aside and scribbling the number down to share with Alfred when he arrived. “His temp is up, but only just over 102. He’s on the cusp of heat stroke, but things don’t start getting bad until his temp gets over 104 or 105.” Jason let out a sigh of relief. “In any case, let’s work on getting him cooled off and comfortable while we wait for the pro to come and fuss over our baby bird,” he recommended. Jason nodded in agreement.

Together they carefully straightened Tim’s legs and rolled him onto his back, slipping a few more pads beneath the pressure points on his back and hips to keep the hard surface from leaving him sore later on. Jason packed bags of ice - wrapped in thin gauze to protect Tim’s skin from frostbite - under his arms, up over his shoulders near his neck, and down in between his legs in his groin area. Dick set him up on supplemental oxygen, just to be safe, then took his blood pressure. Tim’s BP was low but not concerningly so, especially considering that he was without a doubt dehydrated and that they’d already set him up on intravenous fluids to correct that. His heart rate was still up, but the number flashing on the readout dropped a few points every minute, and his coloring was steadily returning to normal, too.

After twenty minutes or so, Dick went up to meet Alfred in the garage while Jason sat beside Tim on the table, wiping his face and chest down with cool water and smirking fondly at Tim’s occasional muttering. At one point when he turned to one side to dampen his rag in the tub of ice-water beside the table, he felt a stir on his other side and heard a soft noise. He whirled back just in time to see Tim open his eyes.

“J-jay?” he croaked, brow furrowed and eyes squinting at the bright lights over them.

“Hey. Welcome back to the land of the living, Timbit,” Jason replied, leaning over him to block out the light.

Tim blinked repeatedly, then stirred as if he was thinking of sitting up, but Jason easily pressed him down with one rag-wrapped hand to the forehead. “Easy, there. You’re still running pretty hot, Timbo. Just lay back and let me cool you off, you suicidal maniac. What were you thinking, not taking any breaks and letting yourself overheat like that?”

Tim huffed a grunt of disagreement. “I did take breaks,” he breathed. He coughed a few times then added, “And I drank water too, I just, I dunno, lost track of how long it’d been and pushed too hard, I guess.” He coughed once more, then grimaced. “Ughh, why does my mouth taste like something died in it?”

Jason laughed. “I dunno, maybe because you hurled your guts all over the roof of Wayne Tower not too long ago.” Tim’s eyes widened and he coughed again.

“W-what?”

“Yup,” he went on, smoothing the cool compress over Tim’s forehead again. “And then when I tried to stand you up to take you inside you fainted in my arms like a swooning princess.” Tim gaped at him and he laughed again.

“But don’t worry, Timmy. We called Alfred to come take care of you and Dick just went up to meet him, so we’ll have you all fixed up again in a jiffy. You were passed the fuck out the first time we took your core temp, but now that Alfred is here he’ll want an updated reading and you know he won’t be satisfied with an oral or tympanic reading for something like this.”

Tim paled. “W-wait. Alfred is h-here? This is Wayne Enterprises? The bunker?”

“Yup,” Jason answered, teasing along Tim's hairline with this fingers. Tim wriggled under his grip and Jason used first his hand and then his whole body to press him back to the table.

“N-no, no, no, no, no, Jason let me up! Or knock me out again! Please!”

He snorted and pressed a quick kiss to Tim’s forehead, just above his eyebrow. “Sorry, no can do, kiddo. Gotta let the big bad Alfie come and freak out over you like a good little Robin.”

Tim moaned. “But Jason…”

“Shhhhhh,” Jason hushed him. “I’ll be right here the whole time to make sure he prods you in all the right places and wastes no effort in lavishing you with all the attention you are so clearly crying out for by pulling a stunt like this.”

Tim wailed in over-exaggerated despair, but Jason sat back and smiled. He was glad Tim felt well enough to overreact - was just so damned _relieved_ that he was still alive to wail and moan and squeeze his hand back tightly when Jason reached out to grab one of his.

That had been a close one, but for once Tim couldn’t hide behind the mission and pretend it was just another one of their many ‘occupational hazards’. It was one thing to lose someone to the violence and danger their lifestyle - Jason had made his grudging peace with that eventuality - and totally another to consider losing someone to something that is easily prevented by common sense and proper self-care.

Jason was _n_ _ever_ going to let Tim forget the senseless worry he’d put him through tonight, never going let Tim forget how stupid and careless it was to push himself that far without telling anyone that he was struggling.

So if Jason was the one to suggest to Alfred that they reconfirm Tim’s core temperature through the most accurate means available (i.e. another rectal temp reading), and Alfred, of course, wholeheartedly agreed with him, much to Tim’s chagrin, then it served him right for scaring them all like that. Never again, Jason vowed. Never again would he let Tim run himself that ragged - on a patrol or otherwise - without anyone knowing or being there to back him up if he needed it. Even if Tim was too busy worrying about everyone else to care enough about himself, someone would be there to remind Tim to take a break. He would make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory PSA: Heat stroke and heat illnesses are no joking matter, especially during warmer months, when it’s easy to get busy and try to blow it off as just “it’s hot, so what? I can deal”. If you ever suspect that you or anyone around you is suffering the symptoms of a heat-related illness, don’t suck it up or stay quiet, seek relief immediately and let other people know what is going on. Take it from someone who’s been there done that: it’s not worth the risk to ‘tough it out’ - heat illnesses can _kill_ you.
> 
> EDIT: Now with a tiny little "sequel" follow-up, which can be read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735180/chapters/36794577)!
> 
> My DCU tumblr sideblog is [redrobinfection](http://redrobinfection.tumblr.com/). Read, reblog and like this work on tumblr [here](http://redrobinfection.tumblr.com/post/163382031321/temps-up-tim-down). Thanks for reading!


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